


give me no signs

by Hayleythewriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x20 never happened, During Canon, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Post 15x19, Requited Love, dadstiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:03:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayleythewriter/pseuds/Hayleythewriter
Summary: They saved the world, they killed Chuck, and Jack brought everyone back. That was as close to a happy ending as they could’ve hoped for. The only thing left for Dean to do was ride off into the sunset— but where the hell was Cas?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 122





	give me no signs

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun to write. I basically wrote the whole thing listening to Invisible String on loop, hence the title. I hope you enjoy this little 15x20 rewrite. Sorry there are no deaths by rusty nail but we can't all be professional paid writers :/

The first day, Dean wasn’t that worried.

He slept most of the day, exhausted but safe in the bunker. They’d just killed Chuck and saved the world, hopefully for the last time, and he deserved some solid shut eye. So did Sam, who Dean assumed was also holed up in his room. 

Jack said he brought everyone back, so Dean wasn’t that worried. He wasn’t sure what Jack had meant by “everyone”, but when he asked, Jack refused to answer (clearly, he was ready to be God). Still, Cas would be the first on Jack’s list to bring back. Dean wasn’t that worried about it. 

Cas wasn’t at the bunker, when he and Sam first got back, but maybe he was hanging out with Jack one last time. Maybe Jack had brought Cas back to life at a luxury resort, and he wanted to check out the sauna before calling Dean. Fine. That was fine. It was only the first day, Cas would probably roll up to the bunker in time for breakfast tomorrow. 

Day two, Dean was freaked out. 

He sort of got it into his head that Cas would be there for breakfast for some dumb reason, so he cooked. A lot. Usually, Sam was always the first one up, but when he got his lazy ass out of bed at 9, he walked into a kitchen full of muffins, toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, strawberries, waffles, and quiche. 

Dean took a sip of his coffee. Sam turned to him. 

“What’s up with the feast?” Sam asked, confused but delighted. 

Dean shrugged, “I made a grocery run.” 

“And bought the whole store?” Sam asked, but didn’t complain as he reached for a blueberry muffin. Dean wanted to tell him to wait, but that would be stupid. Wait for what? He had no idea when Cas show up. Cas didn’t even eat. 

Dean took his muffin outside, but he didn’t eat it. As soon as the bunker door closed, Dean dropped to his knees and looked up at the blue sky above him. He knew he didn’t actually need to, but it made his prayer feel more official somehow, like he was paying for faster shipping. 

“Cas? Hey. Where are you, man? If you’re with Jack or taking care of heaven shit, that’s cool. Just— Do you need a ride or something? I know you know my number. Uh. . .” 

Dean looked at the muffin he was holding. He looked back at the sky. 

“Sorry if you’re. . . busy, or whatever, but I need to talk to you. You remember what you said, before. . .” 

Dean couldn’t talk about it, not over prayer. He already felt stupid enough. 

“Just call me, or even better, just get here. Food’s getting cold. Sam’s already eating without you. Okay. See you soon.” 

When Dean walked back into the kitchen, Sam was sitting at the table eating a whole quiche by himself. 

“Dude, you have a gift,” Sam said through a mouthful. 

That night, Dean still hadn’t heard from Cas. He forced himself to go to sleep and told himself Cas was with Jack. Jack was like a son to him. It made sense. He needed family time, time to sort things out. Maybe Cas was visiting heaven. 

He prayed again, because why not? Two prayers in one day seemed like a bad idea earlier, but now it was midnight and Dean was alone in his bedroom. Lots of people prayed before bed, it wouldn’t be weird or needy. He could even throw in a ‘now I lay me down to sleep’. 

“Hey, Cas, it’s me. Duh.” He cleared his throat, “I just wanted to check in, again, and see if you were coming back. When I call your normal phone, it goes straight to voice mail, but maybe Jack didn’t revive your phone when he revived you.” 

_If he revived you_ , Dean thought before he could think better of it. He felt a sick twist in his stomach. 

“Maybe I should pray to Jack. . .” Dean trailed off. Maybe he should pray to Jack. What if Jack had brought Cas back as a human? Maybe something happened to him in the Empty, something even Jack couldn’t completely fix. What if Cas was half dead on the side of the road somewhere, human and vulnerable? 

“Our Jack who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name,” Dean said, trying to joke about it but sounding painfully genuine even to his own ears. Here, in the privacy of his bedroom, lit only by the small red dot on his alarm clock, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to ask the question he still couldn’t in front of Sam. 

“Jack. . . when you said you brought everyone back, you meant Cas, too, right? I know you did. You had to. He cares about you so much, and you care about him. I know you saved him from the Empty. So. . . where is he? Please, make sure he’s safe. Please, send him here. Send him home. To me.” 

Dean was still alone. But there was nothing left to say. He didn’t finish the Lord’s Prayer, but he didn’t want to. 

It didn’t feel like anyone was listening anyway. 

He rolled onto his side and tried to sleep. 

Day three, Dean was pissed. 

When Sam woke up, there was no big breakfast buffet. There was Dean, fully dressed at the kitchen table with a to-go cup of coffee in hand. 

Dean stood when Sam entered and shoved the coffee in his hand. 

“Get dressed,” he said, “We’re going to go look for Cas.” 

Sam, in pajamas and still half asleep accepted the coffee. But he blinked at Dean. 

“You know where he is?” 

“If I knew that, we wouldn't need to look for him,” Dean snapped, “Drink your coffee.” 

Sam set the cup down. 

“So, what? You just want to drive around, asking people if they’ve seen a guy in a trench coat yea high?” Sam held up a hand at Cas’s height. 

“Don’t be stupid,” Dean said, “We don’t know he’s wearing a trench coat. And you could print some pictures of him that we could take around—” 

“Dean, he’s not a lost dog—” 

“Where is he, then?” Dean said, with a sharpness that made Sam pause. Dean huffed. He hadn’t meant to sound so angry. He wasn’t even angry, not really. He was scared. Dean didn’t say any of that. But Sam slowly nodded anyway. 

“I’ll be ready in ten.” 

They drove around. Sam was right, it was a stupid idea. Dean basically drove in a 70-mile circle around the Bunker. He wanted to keep close, because every so often he would drive back to see if Cas had shown up yet. They drove by hospitals, hotels, and homeless shelters. Sam stayed in the car, researching, while Dean went in to ask questions. 

They drove all day, and no one had seen Cas. At least Sam’s research wasn’t a total waste. He had made a few calls, reviewed their past cases, and compiled a list of other places they should check. The sun was setting, so Dean drove them back home. 

“I think Cas might’ve been sent to a place that was important to him somehow,” Sam theorized, as they walked inside, “Like the warehouse where he first appeared to you, or the Idaho Gas-N-Sip, or the—” 

“But what about the Bunker?” Dean interrupted, shrugging off his jacket. 

“Well yeah, but that’s just one option. Remember when you found him married to that woman in Colorado? He could’ve been sent there, a place he had a strong emotional connection to.” 

“Are you kidding? She didn’t mean anything to him. He didn’t even know who he was.” Dean widened his eyes, “Hey. What if his memory is gone again? That’s why he hadn’t called.” 

“Maybe,” Sam looked to the side. 

Dean was already sold on the idea. 

“Okay, run me through your list again, and let’s figure out where to go first. Maybe we should start driving now and figure it out in the car.” 

“Dean, we’ve been driving around all day.” 

“He has his memory wiped, we need to find him now. He’s probably all confused and he could be hurt, or attacked, and he wouldn’t even know how to—” 

“Jack wouldn’t have left him somewhere dangerous,” Sam reasoned. 

“We don’t know _what_ Jack would do,” Dean slapped together some prayer hands and shouted to the ceiling, “Because someone wants to work in mysterious ways all of a sudden!” 

“C’mon. You know Jack wouldn’t do that, not to Cas. He’s God, he could fix some amnesia.” 

“Then why hasn’t Cas called?” 

Sam looked at Dean. Dean looked back, expecting an answer. He didn’t care that the question sounded like something a needy boyfriend would ask. It was a fair question, and if Sam couldn’t answer, that just meant Dean was right. Cas had amnesia. Or he forgot how to use phones. Or he was in a parking lot in the middle of nowhere, searching the ground for quarters because he didn’t have a cell phone and there was a pay phone right there. That made sense. 

“Maybe he wants to be alone for a while.” Sam said, gently. 

That didn’t make sense. Not at all. And if Sam knew _if he knew_ the last thing Cas said to him, he would agree with Dean. Cas wanted to see him. Cas wanted to talk to him. He told Dean he loved him. 

Dean picked up his jacket. 

“I’m going to keep looking tonight. You coming, or not?” 

“What if he shows up at the bunker and we’re both gone?” 

Dean hesitated. 

Sam took a deep breath, “Look, we can make some calls tonight, see if anyone else has seen him. And we can ask someone to stay here when we leave, just in case Cas shows up.” He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “We’ll find him. And I’m sure wherever he is right now, he’s safe.” 

Dean shrugged off his hand, then turned around and dropped his jacket on the back of the kitchen chair. He knew Sam was right. Probably. 

He prayed to Cas again that night. Then he prayed to Jack. And Gabriel. Everyone and anyone he could think of. 

He stared at the ceiling, wide awake. 

Day four was the worst. Because on day four, Cas called. 

At some point in the night Dean managed to fall asleep, and when he opened his eyes his alarm clock read 10 am. He jolted upright, and threw on the first clothes he could grab. He wasted the entire morning on sleep. He pictured Cas’s face, alone and afraid, and practically kicked his bedroom door open. 

He raced to the kitchen, but Sam wasn’t there. He headed to the library next, but heard Sam before he saw him. 

“—fine, fine, I promise. But wait, don’t just—” Sam said. 

Dean walked into the library, just as Sam brought his phone away from his ear. Sam turned, surprised to see Dean. Surprised, and nervous, judging by the clench of his jaw and the way he swallowed. 

“Who was that?” Dean barked. 

“No one.” Sam said. 

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. His mind raced with possible explanations, and none of them were good. 

“. . . are you trying to make a deal?” Dean asked, voice dangerously low. 

“No,” Sam sputtered, “Nothing like that.” 

“I want him back, too,” Dean continued steadily, “But we can’t go there again, not after we just fixed things—” 

“Dean, God, I know—” 

“I thought about it,” Dean’s voice broke. Sam was shocked, “If he’s still in the Empty...I would do anything to save him. I’m so fucking worried about him. But first we have to try everything else.” 

Something seemed to click for Sam, then. Like something he’d always wondered about had just been confirmed. He took a deep breath. 

“It was Cas.” 

“What?” 

“On the phone. He called me, told me he was okay, and made me promise not to tell you.” 

Dean had dealt with a lot of pain, but this was new. It was a knife to the heart, stabbed all the way through him by a man who wasn’t even in the room. He searched Sam’s face for any shred of doubt, but there was none. It had been Cas on the phone. Sam looked at him with pity, and the pain felt unbearable. It clouded his vision, like the knife was ripped out of him, like he was starting to bleed out. 

“Where is he?” Dean all but whispered. 

“He didn’t say,” Sam slowly held up his phone, “But his number has an area code.” 

They were on the road by 10:15. 

Cas called from South Dakota. Sam tried calling him back, but he got a robotic answering machine. The only place in South Dakota on Sam’s list was the warehouse where Cas and Dean had first met, so that’s where they were headed first. 

The drive was tense. No music. No talking, no matter how hard Sam was side eyeing him. Obviously, Sam had questions, probably starting with ‘do you know why Cas doesn’t want to see you?’ and ending with ‘are you in love with Cas or something?’ 

Dean wasn’t in the mood for questions. 

But this was a six-hour car ride. 

Hour three, Sam cracked. 

“Cas sounded really worried on the phone.” 

“Worried? Worried about what? Like there was something wrong?” 

“No,” Sam corrected, “I mean, he was worried I would tell you he called. And I didn’t really get a chance to ask him why.” 

Dean kept his eyes on the road, and shifted his hands to ten and two on the steering wheel. If he was focused on driving, he wouldn’t have to focus on anything else, like this conversation. Or the concerned crease on Sam’s forehead. 

“Dean,” Sam started. 

Dean flipped on the radio. 

Sam flipped it off. 

“Dean,” Sam turned fully in his seat now, “I think I deserve to know what’s going on. I’ve been with you and Cas every step of the way. If something happened between you, I think I should know.” 

Dean tightened his grip, “What exactly did he say on the phone?” 

“He said, ‘hello, Sam. This is Cas. I am safe, but promise me you won’t tell Dean I called you.’ and then he just kept saying ‘promise me’ no matter what I said, so I promised him, and he hung up.” 

“He told me he loved me.” 

Sam sat back in his seat. Green fields passed by their windows in a blur, and outside their windshield was nothing but bright blue sky and open road. Dean hated it. 

He wished they were driving at night. He wished Sam couldn’t see his face. He glanced in the rearview, and it was just as he thought. He looked tired and pathetic and stretched thin. 

“When?” 

“Before the Empty. . . he said. He said the happiness was in saying it out loud.” 

Dean couldn’t fucking do this. He stared straight ahead, but he could feel Sam next to him, staring at him with a stupid, sad expression. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him. An old fear tugged at his stomach and a voice whispered in his ear that this changed everything, that Sam was disgusted, that it was so wrong— 

“Wow.” 

Dean tensed, bracing himself for whatever Sam said next. 

“Dean, that’s, that’s great. I mean, I always wondered if there was something going on between you and Cas, but love? I’m really happy for you guys.” 

“Don’t be,” Dean said. Sam’s approval was a huge weight off his shoulders, but it didn’t fix the rest of his problems, “Clearly, he realized it was a mistake.” 

“What did you say after he told you?” 

“Nothing,” Dean said, “because he was immediately sent to super hell, like he knew he would be. And now. . .” 

Sam thought about it. Dean wanted to stop thinking about it, so he flipped the radio back on. Sam side eyed him. 

“Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you because he doesn’t think you feel the same.” 

“Then he’s an idiot.” Dean said, and Sam smiled, because Dean had opened up to him. They basically just had a heart to heart, emotionally vulnerable, conversation. 

Dean could see Sam’s smile in his peripheral vision and just shook his head. 

They got to the warehouse at 4. It was empty, abandoned, and worn down. 

Dean kicked the dirt. Sam flipped through his list. 

“Okay,” Sam said, “It’s possible Cas was just using a phone from South Dakota— but can you think of any other places here he might be? Should we check out some hospitals and homeless shelters or something?” 

“Whatever, yes, to all of it,” Dean said, getting back into the car, “Let’s just keep looking.” 

Sam gestured for him to ‘wait’ and pulled out his phone. Dean tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Sam suddenly smiled and started talking animatedly. Dean jumped out of the car, wondering who the hell Sam was talking to. 

“Charlie, we really missed you,” Sam said as Dean approached. Sam put the phone on speaker and held it between them. 

“—so crazy! I mean it feels like no time has passed, and I have no memories of the afterlife or anything— dude, it’s been five years. Do you know how many Marvel movies I’ve missed? And not to mention—” 

“Charlie, hey,” Dean interrupted. 

“Dean!” she squealed through the phone, “Oh my god. Sam was just catching me up. Sorry I didn’t call you guys sooner, I’ve just been getting used to life again in South Dakota. A bunch of us are at a bar right now, and Kevin is trying to pirate some movies—” 

Sam and Dean looked at each other. That couldn’t be a coincidence. 

“Is Cas there?” Dean asked. 

Charlie paused, “No. Why? Is he okay?” 

Dean grabbed the phone, “Sam and I are actually in the neighborhood right now. Maybe we could stop by.” 

\- 

It was no Roadhouse, but the dive bar still looked warm and inviting as Dean and Sam pulled up at sunset. They got out of the car and looked the bar. They could hear music and see a crowd through the windows, but they couldn’t make out any individual faces. They looked at each other. If Charlie was back, who knew what else, or who else, would be waiting for them inside. 

When Dean and Sam entered, the music cut off. Conversations stopped, and every face turned toward them. 

Dean and Sam were shocked. 

The bar was full of people they knew. Some they hadn’t seen in years, like Ash, Garth, Jo, Ellen, Kevin, Charlie. There were also people they’d lost more recently, like Eileen. Eileen. Sam couldn’t stop looking at her, afraid that this was all too good to be true. 

“Well don’t just stand there,” Jody said from behind the bar. 

Jody broke the silence, and suddenly everyone was talking. The first thing Dean felt when he entered the bar was guilt. It was hard not to, seeing everyone they couldn’t save in one room. But as Jo wrapped him in a hug, and Missouri handed him a beer, he pushed his guilt away. They were all here, really here. Jack brought them back, gave them all a second chance at life. Things were okay. It was all smiles and excitement and people asking what happened since they died. Dean’s cheeks start to hurt from smiling too much. 

But Cas wasn’t here. 

Dean slipped away an hour later. He saw Sam and Eileen sitting at a candle lit table in the corner, and didn’t bother them. It looked like they had a lot to talk about anyway, and Dean was happy for them. If Sam freaked out, he knew Dean’s number. 

Dean started driving. He’d talked to everyone at the bar, and had a pretty good idea of what happened. Four days ago, they all woke up on the floor of this little dive bar. They were groggy, disoriented, with their last memories being the moment of their death. Dean explained the Chuck situation, and now most of them were figuring out how to go back to their old lives now that they were back from the dead. 

None of them had seen Cas. 

There were some people Dean had expected to see that weren’t there. Bobby, his parents, some of the angels. Jack, in his infinite wisdom, hadn’t brought them back. 

But Cas called Sam. Cas had to be here. 

Dean drove into Sioux Falls, not even sure where he was going. 

He hit some light traffic just as the buildings got taller and the lights got brighter. 

He looked up, but the city was too bright to see any stars. He picked a spot on the endless black sky and decided to pray. 

“Jack, please. I’m not asking for a lot. I just want you to tell me where he is. God’s big on signs, right? Burn some bushes or give me stone tablets or something. Just help me find him. I just want a chance to tell him. Is that so much to ask? What do you want, promises? If I promise to pray before every meal will you just show me where—” 

A beam of bright white light split the sky, and Dean inhaled sharply. He pulled the car to the side of the road, and stared, transfixed at the light. Then, the light started to move in slow circles, and Dean realized what it was. A searchlight, like the bat signal, that were used sometimes at movie premieres and to promote businesses. 

Dean watched the light move, a glimmer of hope against the inky black night. 

He hit the road again, and spoke to the roof of his car, 

“I hope you know I said _if_ I promise. Just because you finally answered doesn’t mean the promise was made. I know how these deals work. Nice try.” 

Dean followed the light through the city until he pulled the impala into the parking lot of a used car dealership. 

He spotted Cas instantly. 

Dean was angry, furious really, and confused. But still, he couldn’t help but smile. He felt so relieved when he saw Cas. It reminded him of the way it felt when Cas healed him, the rush of his grace washing over him and fixing pain he’d gotten used to ignoring. 

There was Cas, standing in front of a new, black 2020 Honda Accord. There were rows of shiny new cars behind him lit by rows of tall metal lights. His white collared shirt was wrinkled and untucked; his tie pulled loose around his neck. His hair was uncombed, and his eyes were cast downward. He looked deep in thought and tired. He needed a shave. 

Dean felt like he was looking at a painting. There was something so beautiful about the pool of light around him, with Cas right in the center like he was the source. 

The wind picked up, ruffling the colorful flags hung across the lot, but Cas was perfectly still. Dean walked up to him, keeping to the shadow just outside his circle of light. Dean’s heart was pounding. He just spent the last four days thinking about Cas, thinking about what he wanted to tell him, but instead he blurted the first thing that came to mind. 

“You didn’t answer my prayers.” 

Cas turned, right as Dean stepped into the light. He was speechless, just for a moment. 

“How did you find me?” 

“Jack helped.” 

Cas’s gaze dropped to the ground, and Dean stepped even closer. He studied him carefully, but really the wrinkled clothes gave it away. 

“You’re human,” Dean said. 

Cas forced himself to look him in the eyes, “Yes. You should go. Where’s Sam? And everyone—” 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Dean cut him off. Cas’s blue eyes were bright, but his expression was carefully blank. He didn’t react to what Dean said. At all. 

Dean held out his hands, “What the hell are you doing here? And why did you call Sam, and ask him not to tell me?” 

“I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Dean said incredulous, “You, what? Wanted me to think you were dead? Are you mad at me?” 

“No—” 

“No,” Dean said, sarcastically. “Because you love me. Right?” 

Cas’s careful blank expression broke. Now Dean was mad at himself. He didn’t mean it, the way it sounded, bitter and mocking. The whole point of this conversation was to tell Cas how he felt, but why was that so impossibly difficult? It was just three words. _Just say it,_ he willed himself, but before he built up the nerve, Cas spoke. 

“I do. But I’ve always known you didn’t return my feelings— and that’s okay. I didn’t want Sam to tell you I called because I wanted you to get a clean break from me and my. . . problems. You saved the world Dean. You deserve to have a happy life, free of complications. I am a big complication.” 

“No,” Dean finally found his voice, “Cas, you’re wrong. I return your feelings.” 

“You. . .” Cas studied every inch of his face, but only saw desperate sincerity. Dean reached forward and grabbed Cas’s hand, pulling them closer together. 

Cas pulled his hand back and tripped over himself to back away. 

Dean’s inner alarms started blaring. Why was Cas trying to leave? Maybe Dean had totally misread everything, only seeing what he wanted to see. Cas hadn’t been human for long, maybe when he said love, it was different. Maybe Dean had just confessed to his best friend and ruined the best relationship he’d ever had. 

“Dean, you don’t know what you’re saying,” Cas said holding the hand Dean had touched close to his chest, “You would be much better off without me. You could do anything you wanted now— you could go back to hunting, normal cases, with Sam. You could open-up a bar for hunters. You could retire in Hawaii. You don’t need me.” 

“I want you,” Dean stumbled forward, half his mind reeling with _shut up, you’re ruining everything._

“Dean something happened when Jack brought me back,” Cas finally blurted. 

They had both left the circle of light far behind them. Now they were close to the back doors of the car dealership, in dim, blue light. There were bushes on either side of the door. 

“What happened?” Dean demanded. 

“He didn’t bring me back alone.” 

Dean looked at Cas, trying to understand. Cas looked to the side, and Dean followed his gaze. 

Claire Novak stepped out from behind the bushes. She was holding a three year old boy in her arms. 

“This is Jack,” Cas explained, “Well, the human parts of him. When Jack brought me back, he left me with this child.” 

Dean did not understand, like at all. He was still processing Jack as God, and now there was also Jack as a human baby? But if there was one thing Dean was good at, it was taking supernatural bullshit in stride. 

“So you have a baby. That’s why you haven’t called me?” Dean asked. 

“You didn’t call him?” Claire turned on Cas. 

“He shouldn’t have to deal with this,” Cas defended himself to Claire, “I didn’t want to burden him with my problems. Jack is my child, and I want to raise him, and I don’t want Dean to feel obligated to help me just because he feels sorry for me.” 

“I guess you still have something to learn about being human,” Dean said, slowly walking toward them. Claire and Cas turned to him, but Dean was looking straight into Cas’s eyes when he said, “When you love someone, their problems aren’t a burden. You want to help them, because they help you, too, just by being themselves. Just by being in your life. I don’t feel sorry for you, Cas. I feel—” 

Cas leaned toward him suddenly, so their faces were only an inch apart. Dean inhaled sharply. They looked into each other’s eyes, and then Cas slowly smiled. Dean smiled back and reached for Cas’s hand. Cas let him. 

“Uh, I really hate to interrupt whatever this is, but it’s cold out here. Cas, you said you were going to get us a car.” 

“I think Dean could give us a ride,” Cas said, softly. 

“Can you fit a car seat in the Impala?” Claire made a face. 

“We’ll make it work,” Dean promised. 

_-_

The bunker looked a lot different now. 

Sam moved out and bought an apartment in Sioux Falls with Eileen. They hunted together now, sometimes, but mostly they worked on designing a new system of connecting hunters in America. It would be digital, innovative, collaborative, and since it was headed by Sam and Eileen, Dean knew it would also be successful. 

Claire moved into an apartment with Kaia, in the town nearest to the bunker. They were Cas and Dean’s go-to babysitters, and Jack loved them. Claire was basically his sister, but Cas and Claire never really talked about it. She didn’t call him Dad, but Dean hadn’t called Bobby ‘Dad’ either. 

Cas and Jack moved into the bunker. 

Dean was great with kids. He’d helped raise Ben, but Ben was older. He’d basically raised Sam, but raising Jack was different. He wasn’t raising him alone. It made some things easier, like when he woke up at 2 am to the sound of crying, he and Cas could trade off baby duty. It made other things harder, like starting a new relationship. 

He and Cas did everything out of order. 

“Do you remember when we first met, and I shot you?” Dean asked scrambling eggs at the stove. 

Cas was at the kitchen table, with a cup of coffee. Jack sat in the chair next to him, on his booster seat. 

“Technically the first time we met was in Hell.” 

“Right,” Dean nodded. He looked over at Cas, “When did you realize you. . . you know. About me.” 

Dean still had trouble saying it. But Cas always knew. 

“The moment I first saw your soul, the second I laid my hand on you, I knew you were the love of my life.” 

“Really?” Dean asked sort of breathless. 

“No,” Cas smiled sheepishly. “I don’t remember when I knew. It was more difficult to understand my feelings when I was an angel. I knew I felt strongly toward you, but. . . When did you realize?” 

“When the Leviathans were after us, and you walked into that lake and died,” Dean said, without hesitation. “I found your trench coat, just floating, and that was when I realized.” 

Cas’s eyes widened. 

“But that was years ago.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Dean snorted and dumped the eggs on a plate. “You seriously never suspected? I thought I was pretty obvious.” 

“But… you never said anything.” 

“It’s not about what I said, it’s about what I didn’t say.” 

“Like your thoughts?” 

“Sure, yeah. Like the way I looked at you. Little things that bothered me, ways I reacted. I can’t believe you had no idea.” 

Dean turned toward the table, but Cas was standing right behind him. 

“I wish you had told me sooner.” 

Cas was so close, but there was still a slight space between them. Dean wanted to close the space so badly, but he was caught between the counter and Cas’s stare. Cas put a hand on his arm, right over the handprint. Right where it belonged. 

“The moment I saw your soul, something changed. I didn’t understand it then but. . . everything changed.” 

“Are you happy, Cas?” 

“I’ve never been happier,” Cas kissed him. He trailed his kisses down his neck, and Dean wrapped him in his arms. 

When they finally sat down to breakfast, the eggs had gone cold. Neither of them minded. 

Dean took his first bite, and suddenly the newly framed photo of Dean, Cas, and Charlie’s weekend in Vegas fell off it’s hook and shattered to the floor. Like it had been struck down by the hand of God. 

Dean looked up at the ceiling. 

“I _never_ promised to pray before every meal, and you know it! It’s not my fault you misunderstood me. You should’ve got that shit in writing, Jack.” 

“Not you,” Cas leaned toward the Jack at their table, who had a fist full of cheerios. 

“Not you,” Dean agreed, then turned to Cas, “Should we try making him juice with that stupid fruit juicer thing?” 

“We have plenty of store-bought juice.” 

“I know, but Sam and Eileen will be here tomorrow, and he’ll know if it’s unopened.” 

“Well, I suppose we could try.” 


End file.
